The Bickersons. 2.0

Growing up, my older brother and I used to fight. You know, like siblings do.  "It's mine!"  "Give it back!"  "Stop it!"  All that good stuff. 

I remember one time my brother calling me out on the fact that I used to yell loudly so that I would be guaranteed to get the attention of whatever parental unit was closest.  At the time, I don't think I consciously realized I was doing it,  but of course, that was exactly my tactic.  We grew out of it eventually.  Especially when our Dad remarried and my step-mom and her four kids moved in - because that was when we got a glimpse at some experts in sibling battles.  The Bickersons.

My two younger step-sibs, lets call them Thing 1 and Thing 2 for the purposes of this post, were unbelievable.  Thing 1, my brother - age 9 when they moved in.  Thing 2, the baby girl - age 5 when we all came together.  They would just pick at each other constantly.  T1 would drive T2 crazy - and vice versa.  They didn't really fight physically that I can remember - but the nagging, the teasing, the never-ending pick, pick, pick. My Dad dubbed them, "The Bickersons."  I had never seen the likes of it.  And thought I never would again.  Funny thing, life.

Enter Wonderboy and Pixie.  Ages - almost 7 and 4, respectively.  I think they are going to give the original Bickersons a run for their money.  Wonderboy has inherited my "yelling loudly" technique.  Which, in hindsight, is completely annoying!  What really drives him crazy though is when the Pixie will say something nonsensical.  She's constantly bringing up events that only happened in her head which he is well and determined to prove DID NOT HAPPEN.  "You didn't have a party today.  Did she have a party today, Mom? See? You didn't have a party."

It's like he can't reconcile her 3yr old brain in his 6yr old brain.  As far as he's concerned - anything that someone says is taken at face value.  If she calls something by a wrong name, he has to point it out.  If she says something random, he has to prove that it's nonsense.  It's that same pick, pick, pick.  GAH! 

Then, of course, are the times when it does get physical.  This is usually running around play that turns into something more rough and Wonderboy forgets that she is smaller then him.  I always know the moment it has gone too far because I will hear her start to cry and he is instantly trying to make her laugh so he doesn't get busted.  Lately, his tactic is to hit himself "in the jimmies," or tell her to.  (Because everything to do with butts or penis' is hilarious, didn't you know that?)  Anyway, I'm waiting for the day that it's going to backfire on him and she's going to haul off and kick him in the nuts.

They are driving me mental.  And I'm not always sure the best way to handle it.  Intervene?  Don't intervene?  Let them try work it out?  (Secretly, and as a former "little sister"  I tend to think that route usually benefits the elder child...)  Any and all advice would be greatly appreciated. Because if I don't get some relief from the Bickersons Next Generation soon I might as well go out and buy my own liquor store.

Overdue sunshine. Literally and figuratively.

Check it out, y'all!  The sun is shining on our corner of New England and Spring is finally here!

 Leaves!  Leaves!

Ooo!  Ahhh!

There is something about this time of year that makes me intrinsically happy.  The little red buds that give way to bright, new green leaves.  The pop of daffodils around every corner.  The burst of color on the blooming trees. Every day when I drive to work, there is some other part of Spring making itself known.  Happy, happy.

Another thing that makes me happy is when other bloggers that I stalk respect give me a little sunshiny love!

I received this some time ago from the lovely Stacia at Fluffy Bunnies.  She shares my passion for the decadent Cadbury Creme Eggs. She makes me get teary.  She makes me laugh.  She makes me think.  She is a relatively new find for me and I am so grateful I stumbled across her fabulous blog.  Thanks for continuing to provide sunshine in my life, Stacia!

I feel a little silly passing on the love - since most of the blogs I follow have pretty big followings of their own and you probably all read them anyway.  But I'm going to mention a few new blogs that I have recently found and was instantly smitten with.

Aging Mommy.  Smart, funny, slightly anti-social like yours truly - this is a Mommy you want to hang out with.

The Unbitten Tongue.  From a woman who just couldn't take not being able to be totally herself on her blog. So she started another one.  Cool, huh?

Deckside Thoughts.  A fellow New Englander. Need I say more?  And I don't even hold her obsessive love of NASCAR against her.

Hope this bit of sunshine brightens your day, just as it did mine!

JMOW and the no good, very bad day

Tuesday morning started out well.  I actually got up for my early 6:15 alarm to do my Shred for the day.  I'm getting my water in the kitchen when I notice my phone flashing.  Check my email to find out the Wonderboy's school has cancelled for the day.  Hmm.  Curious.  Maybe it has something to do with all the rain we've been getting?  I start to walk downstairs and think to myself, "What is that noise?"

That noise?  Was this:

About five inches of water - in our entire downstairs living room.  Spewing from the shower drain in the downstairs bathroom:

I had shut the shower door in this shot - but you can see it still pouring out.  And yes folks, that is not just water coming out of that shower drain.  It's all kinds of stuff you really don't want to see INSIDE YOUR LIVING ROOM.

That night, in trying to keep some semblance of normalcy, I mean - the poor kids had to fend for themselves most of the day, I went ahead with my plans to make cookies for story-time at the Library the following morning. It was my week and who am I to let a little flood prevent the kids from getting their dinosaur cookies? We successfully rolled and cut 40 little stegosauras'. That's when my brain took a break and I tried to open a little tube of frosting with an open pair of scissors.

This is my thumb after making a quick trip to the walk-in clinic for THREE F-ING STICHES. Talk about adding insult to injury. Or injury to insult as the case may be.

The monsoon that hit New England this past week hit our state particularly hard.  Lots of people were - and are - in way worse shape then we are.  I know this logically.  It still doesn't change the fact that we have a major suckfest going on.  We have cleared everything out of there, steam cleaned with bleach so that we can at least not be breathing in some potentially harmful mold stuff.  No matter what, the carpet is going to have to go. 

And this is where financial things like, oh....no savings, shitty credit rating, no help from the flood insurance that our mortgage company insist we get, really start to make you incredibly depressed as the days go on.  Trying to keep your head above water takes on a whole new meaning.  Har-har.

So that's been our week - and the reason I've been MIA.  Hopefully things will start to even out a bit and I'll get back in the swing of things.  Until then, hope everyone has a Happy Easter!

The Agony of Defeat

Don't you love those "lessons of parenting" days?  Wonderboy had his second karate tournament yesterday.  In his first one, last fall, he received first place in his age group.  To say we were beyond thrilled is an understatement.  We were SO proud.

He practiced really hard leading up to this tournament.  At his karate lessons four times a week, going over and over his form (routine) at home.  He was ready.  I was worried leading up to it - how to walk the line of keeping his confidence up while still cautioning him that he might not get first place this time.  Which he seemed to think was in the bag.

The competition is made up of a few different schools in our area, so he is not just competing against kids from his class.  Unlike the first tournament, where only one other girl from our group participated, almost every kid in WB's class entered.  Some were younger and therefore were not in the same age group as WB, but it did mean that all the parents were there.

We watched and cheered on the younger kids.  All of whom got trophy's - which is cool.  One little boy in the 5yr old group totally froze and started crying!  It made me get all choked up.  Poor kid.   Finally, it was our turn.  There were nine kids competing in WB's age bracket.  That's a pretty big group for this kind of thing.

Wonderboy gets up and begins.  His presentation (the speech they make to the judges telling them their name and what they are going to do) is strong and loud.  He steps back and begins.  Great moves, nice loud ki ai's (the yelling part).  Guard stance, back fist, body punch, round house kick, slide up, second round house ki- WHAM.  Lost his balance and fell on his butt.  (Although I'm sure it wasn't actually this way - in my head I heard the "Gasp!" go up from the crowd.)  I looked over at the Mr. and I swear we both had tears in our eyes.  He worked so damn hard!  It just didn't seem fair!  Immediately I begin thinking about how hard it was going to be to console him.

Meanwhile, without hesitation, WB got back up and finished the form strong.  He bowed to the judges and went back to his spot on the floor and, as people were clapping for him, gave me a wink!  And when he was called  into the "runner up" row instead of first, second or third, he never once seemed sad or felt badly about it.  He was excited about getting a ribbon since he, "didn't have one of those yet!"

There were no tears.  There was no regret.  At least not from the Wonderboy.  The Mr. and I?  That's another story.  We were both so bummed out for him.  Truly upset - although only when we were alone.  I mean, we weren't disappointed in him, clearly, just sorry that his hard work hadn't mapped out as we'd hoped.  Thank god my kids haven't shown any Olympic-like skill sets!  I don't think I could take it.

But we learned from him today.  He was the one who took it all in stride.  Who lived by the, "it's not important if you win or lose - just have fun" mantra.  And I have to say, that was what made us the most proud.

The Pang. (With additional thoughts)

I didn't expect it.  Not one little bit.  But suddenly, a couple of days ago, it was there.  The thought just snuck into my brain.  Me!  The person who has been so adamant - especially after finding out the Pixie's gender - that two kids would be it.  We had our boy and our girl.  What I had always hoped for.

And yet....Sitting there at our desk at home, I thought, "Am I really never going to be pregnant again?  Couldn't we have one more?"  (That thud you just heard was my parents hitting the floor.)

I said something to the Mr. a bit later and after his initial reaction, "You're crazy," he realized I was serious.  We actually talked about it.  The fact that we barely survive financially right now.  That my current health insurance wouldn't cover it, so we would have to figure that out before we even started trying.  The fact that we barely survive financially right now.  That the Wonderboy would be eight or even nine years older then his brother or sister.  The fact that we barely survive financially right now. That we would be back in the world of diapers and sleepless nights.  Oh, and did I mention the money concerns?

I've felt for a long time that this is our family.  The four of us.  And now that the kids are getting older we can do more things together and have a great time.  How would a baby effect that dynamic?  I don't know.  But for some reason, the thought of never having another baby is making me sad.  And even with all those factors that show why it, perhaps, wouldn't be the best thing for us, I can't seem to shut the door completely.  Am I crazy?  Probably.  Am I just having an emotional reaction to the fact that the Pixie doesn't want me sing songs to her anymore at bedtime?  Maybe a smidge.  But it's in my head.

Are we going to do anything about this sudden pang?  I have no idea.

UPDATE:  In thinking about this more, I wanted to add that I do realize how incredibly lucky I am to have my two kids.  I know, and have witnessed in my own family, the struggles so many couples go through to become pregnant and bring those pregnancies to term.  I in no way mean to sound ungrateful or take for granted that we could get pregnant again if we decided to act on this idea.
~JMMW